Awakening Memories
by crysta656
Summary: As a citrus like scent wafted into her nose and felt a tear streak down her cheek, she remembered this man. Sequel to Lost to Memory
1. Chapter 1

So, due to overwhelming demand... I have decided to do a sequel to my one-shot, Lost to Memory. I won't let any details out, because I don't want to ruin any of it. This will be multi-chaptered, but it won't be an extremely long story. So... enjoy and please review!

_If her memories are the stars in the nighttime sky, mine are the haunted empty spaces in between. ~Nicholas Sparks_

Awakening Memories

Chapter 1

"Why don't we start with why your here." The therapist said, her voice compassionate and calm, but still sounding professional.

"I think I'm going crazy." She said, burying her face in her hands. Why else would she be seeing a shrink?

"What is it, do you think, that would lead you to this conclusion?"

She breathed deep, already regretting that she had taken her bosses advice in seeking out the good doctor.

"It's not crazy, exactly. More like I feel like there are two people inside me and I know them both, but at the same time I don't."

The doctor, Claire Randall, hmm'd appropriately and nibbled on the top of her pen before writing something down on the legal pad resting in her lap.

"You say that there seems to be two people inside of you, right?"

"Yes," she replied quickly.

"That is a common feeling among many." The therapist sat her pen down on her lap and looked up, pulling her glasses down her nose. "It generally results from a type of conflict inside yourself. Tell me, are you married?"

Hermione smiled but quickly furrowed her brow as the image in her mind of her husbands closely cropped red hair quickly transformed into long, flowing tresses of white blond. The picture quickly faded back to Ron's fiery hair and she was left confused again.

"Yes," She answered shakily. "Do you mind if I have a glass of water?"

"Of course." The doctor waved her wand and a glass appeared on the low coffee table in front of her. "You seemed to have some confusion when I asked you about your marriage. Would you tell me what that was about?"

She drank deeply and then sat the glass back down in front of her. As she prepared her answer, she also prepared herself for a permanent trip to St. Mungo's mental ward.

"I think I'm an adulterer." She rushed out.

"Well, that could be the cause of feeling like there are two parts of yourself. Does your husband know that you are having an affair?"

"I'm not cheating on my husband." Hermione said calmly, betraying the rising betrayal that she felt inside. "I think I'm having an affair with my husband, although I don't even think... I don't know anymore." She finished, as her mind continued to do it's usual thing of phasing out.

She watched the therapist pick the pen back up and scribble furiously across the yellow paper, her forehead creased as she wrote out her thoughts at an alarming speed.

"Tell me, have you ever received an injury to your head?"

"Yes," she answered honestly. "During the Final Battle I was struck by a curse from Bellatrix and lost the majority of my memories. I was able to retain my knowledge of magic, but many other things are a blur."

"And, who told you about the rest of your life, outside of your schooling."

"My family and friends. Do you think that they left something out?" She asked, feeling indignation on their behalf's. "They were all quite thorough in telling me about my life."

"Does your husband know anything about this, Mrs. Weasley? Have you told him of what you've been feeling?"

"Umm, no. He doesn't. He has been traveling frequently for the past year and I haven't wanted to put any additional pressure on him. He's an ambassador for the Ministry of Magic and has been in America for the past six months. I only see him once or twice a month and I didn't want him to worry."

"I think that you should talk to him about this. Maybe he can shed some more light on why you are feeling this way. Maybe there's an issue in your marriage that has been weighing on the both of you, even if you don't realize it."

She concentrated, but couldn't think of any problems in their marriage. Ron was an exemplary husband. He worked hard, but concentrated solely on her when he was home. He did his share of taking care of the house and always asked for her opinion, no matter the subject.

"How are you sleeping?' The doctor asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I sleep fine, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Yes." Hermione responded. "I sleep fine, I just have problems staying asleep."

"What is it that wakes you up?" Dr. Randall asked, not even bothering to look up as she started that manic scribbling again.

"Well, most nights I take a teaspoon of dreamless sleep, but it makes me quite groggy, so I don't do it every night. On the nights that I don't take it, I have these dreams."

Her mind tried to focus, to bring back up the images that usually plagued her sleep, but were now happening upon her during her waking hours as well. She could see a rough outline of a face, could almost smell the lingering scent of expensive wool and citrus. The images her mind captured were elusive and no matter the amount of focus she had, she couldn't get a clear picture.

"Is there anything in these dreams that you remember? Are they fragments from your life that your mind has simply embellished on?" Dr. Randall asked, her voice serious.

"They are so real, yet they aren't. I can't put my finger on it, but when I'm dreaming, I know, well, I think I know, that I've lived what I've dreamed."

She leaned back against the sofa as exhaustion washed over her body. The doctor was silent for a few minutes and they engaged in staring match although they weren't looking at each other.

"Well, the good news is that I don't think you're crazy." The therapist said surely. "I would like to confer with a colleague of mine. Would you be adverse to that?"

Hermione shook her head, relieved to hear that she wasn't losing her mind although she knew that she was. "Do you have an idea of what's going on?"

"I have a few thoughts, but nothing concrete. What I would like to do is meet with you again next week, if that's ok with you."

"I can't see that it would be a problem." She said, mentally reviewing her schedule.

"Also, I would like for you to keep a journal of your dreams. I think that it will help us get to the bottom of whatever is going on." Dr. Randall wrote a few more lines on her paper before continuing. "Try to be as descriptive as possible. Write down everything you can remember, be it the scenery around you, any emotions you feel during one of the episodes, everything."

"I can do that."

"Great, well, see David on your way out and he will give you the time for your next appointment."

Hermione stood up and smoothed down her taupe skirt and shook the therapists hand. "Thank-you, thank-you so much."

Dr. Randall smiled kindly and put her hand on Hermione's shoulder as they walked to the door.

"Don't worry, we will figure this out."

"Thank-you for watching James, Hermione." Ginny Potter said, balancing James on her hip as he reached his chubby little hands into the red head's hair, gripping it tightly in his fist.

"It's no problem. I don't have to go into work tomorrow so it works out well."

"We appreciate it so much. It's not very often that we get an evening out and I really want to spend as much time with Harry as possible. We haven't had that many date nights since James was born."

Hermione's eyes examined her friend carefully. "As much time as possible?" She asked, her gaze narrowing on her friends stomach. "Is there soon to be another addition to the Potter family?"

Ginny smiled brightly and rubbed her hand affectionately over her middle. "I haven't told Harry yet."

"Oh Gin, that's wonderful! How far along do you think you are?"

"A little over a month. I've been waiting to tell Harry, but when I found out last week he was in the States with Ron, so I haven't really had a chance."

She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at her friends news.

When her and Ron had married, they had both decided to put off on having children and simply enjoy their life as a newly married couple. But lately, she had been thinking that maybe now was the time to start a family. With all of their friends now married, she had been made Godmother to several of their children and that made her long for her own.

Ginny looked at her tenderly and rested her hand on Hermione's sleeve. "Talk to Ron. I'm sure that he would love to start a family. Plus, I heard from Harry that Kingsley might have Ron back in Britain for a while. So, what better time could their be than now?"

"I suppose." She agreed, but quickly moved away from the topic. "Look at the time. You better get going."

Her friend looked at the wrist strapped around her wrist. "Oh, Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm going to be so late if I don't hurry."

They quickly went over Jame's routine and transferred the now sleeping baby into the portable crib that Ginny had brought with her.

"I find that if he wakes up, it's best to read _Oh, The Places You'll Go!_ And follow it up with a quick bottle."

"Gin," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I think I've got it!"

"If you need help, floo call Mum."

"Goodbye, Ginny." She said forcefully, almost shoving her friend out the door. With a little wave, Ginny disapparated, leaving Hermione alone in the house.

She checked on James and quickly cast an alert charm on the room so that if the baby woke up, her wand would vibrate. With a light kiss on his head, she closed the door and made her way into the kitchen where a steaming hot cup of tea was waiting in her favorite mug.

_There was a book propped up in her lap as she leaned against the black and silver damask pillows. _

"_I think that you will be a wonderful mother." He said tenderly, his hand ghosting over her flat stomach, smoothing the soft flesh and tracing around her belly button. _

"_You really think so?" She asked as she sat the book on the stand by the bed and curled into his side, her cheek resting on the firm expanse of his chest. "I never really imagined myself having children, I guess since I've been fighting my whole life that I haven't really had much a chance to think past that."_

"_What's the point in saving the present if you have no dreams for the future?" He said simply and went to running his fingers through her curls. _

"_If we have a future, when this is all over, I want it to be with you."_

The delicate china slipped from her fingers and shattered into sharp shards around her feet, the scalding hot liquid sprayed onto her denims, burning her through the heavy fabric.

She put her hand to her forehead as the vision faded out, causing a blinding pain to travel up from her arm, to her chest and then finally to her temples.

The burning in her legs didn't bother her as she tried to hold on to the memory that had flashed between her eyes. Hermione cried out in frustration as it slipped from her sight quicker than lightning. The brief image of the man remained elusive and as much as she tried, she couldn't make out who it was.

After cleaning up her burns and the mess on the floor, she checked on James, even though he never woke. As she pulled on her pajamas, she spied the notebook that she had left on the bed. The one that her therapist recommended she keep.

As a citrus like scent wafted into her nose and felt a tear streak down her cheek, she remembered this man.

She reached for a pen and settled into the covers. As she wrote, she had the most overwhelming sense of realization. This man who haunted her thoughts was someone she knew or used to know. He wasn't just a dream, he was real and she could feel him in her heart. He was the constant thrumming in her veins. A part of her life she could ignore no longer. She knew, she could feel it.

She loved him...


	2. Chapter 2

So sorry it took so long to get this update out. I've had it planned since I started doing the sequel, but just didn't have time to actually write it out. As we speak, it's 2 in the morning and I've now been up for 22 hours, so I apologize for any mistakes. Please enjoy, as this story, as well as Lost to Memory are my favorite stories that I have done to date. xoxo Crysta

Awakening Memories

"_The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit."_

_~ Nelson Henderson_

Chapter 2

It was a quiet afternoon in Wiltshire. The rain pounded steadily against the land, creating a doleful pall over the area. The wet afternoon kept in several of the muggle tourists who had come to visit the neolithic structures at Stonehenge and Avebury. But, in a secluded area of the county lay ruins that were anything but tame.

A witch or wizard would be able to see past the illusion and know the ruins for what they really were. Surrounded by a massive set of iron wrought gates lay a stately three winged manor house that was the ancestral seat of the Malfoy family.

If one was lucky enough to be granted access through the imposing wards they would find a gravel path before their feet and gardens surrounding them that were meticulously kept. In days past, it wouldn't have been unusual to see flocks of peacocks strutting around the manicured lawns, but those days had gone. The birds had been let go a few years ago. Rumor had it that the elder Malfoy couldn't stand to keep them in captivity any longer.

Before the great mahogany doors of the estate lay a laughing fountain in the center of what in the muggle world would have been an impressive circular drive.

Ron Weasley didn't know why, but today the fountain seemed sad. The water pouring from the top like great tears and he could totally relate. He didn't want to be here today. If his purpose here was for any other reason, it would have been tolerable, but today, the trip up the drive wore him down.

With each step that he had taken, his feet had seemed to get heavier and the pain in his chest multiplying ten fold.

He hadn't minded the trips that he made to the Malfoy home on most occasions. If the roles were reversed, he knew that he would appreciate the same courtesies being extended to him. He would want to know how life was for her, if she was happy, pretty much any detail that could be spared him.

Hermione had a way of doing that to you.

His wife was an amazing woman, too amazing, he had to admit. She was good, honest, trusting and entirely too good for him. She put up with his hectic work schedule without complaint. She was a gracious hostess when the occasion called for it. She was his support, his best friend, his life.

It had been difficult for him in the beginning, knowing about her life and not sharing it with her. When she had her accident and they had been told of the extent of her memory loss, he was ashamed to admit that he was somewhat happy. He was pleased that she didn't know about the war and the tragedies that everyone had suffered. He was happy that she didn't remember what a prat he had been at times in their friendship. But mostly, he was thrilled with the knowledge that Lucius Malfoy might no longer be a part of her life.

Ron had feared for a moment that Malfoy Sr. might stake his claim to her and show her the memories of their life together and that he would lose her. If he had been in Malfoy's position, he knew that he would have done so. Instead, he was surprised when the man had decided to give her up.

He would never forget the look on Malfoy's face when he had been told that Hermione had lost her memories, it was the only time he had seen the once enemy of his family falter. Malfoy had taken his hand to his chest as if he had been stabbed and fallen back against the hospital wall, his aristocratic features contorted in pain. He had missed the rest of the conversation between the healer and Malfoy.

Only moments later, Lucius Malfoy was completely composed. He had walked into Hermione's room, his eyes falling on the woman they both loved, his gray depths awash with anguish although he carried himself as he always had.

They had cleared out of the room to give the couple privacy and he had thought that his chances were gone.

A few minutes later Malfoy came out of the room and told all of them of his decision, because in reality, they all knew that any decision about Hermione would be his. It was no secret of their romance, but it shocked them all when he gave her up without a fight.

He told them to make no mention of him. She didn't remember any of them and he didn't want her to carry the stain of being associated with his family and their rather violent past.

Ron had almost shouted for joy, but when he saw the grieved expression on not only Lucius' face, but Draco's as well, his joy turned somber and his feelings turned more towards sympathy.

On the day of their wedding, Ron decided that he would keep the Malfoy's updated on Hermione. He would spare no details from them. Anything Lucius, and even Draco, wanted to know, he would tell them. He could do no less than that for the man that had given him a future with Hermione.

He knew that he didn't come out as often as Malfoy would like, maybe once every month or so and if work detained him for longer, he would send an owl. He would have wanted that if it were him.

When he reached the door, a small elf, Topsy, he thought her name was, opened the door and welcomed him to the home.

As they walked across the richly carpeted foyer that was lined with gilt mirrors and old paintings, his heart lurched in his chest. This feeling must be similar to what Lucius had felt years ago. It felt like his chest was collapsing as a hand reached in and squeezed his heart in an iron grip.

"Master is out to Gringotts at the moment, but master Draco will join you here momentarily." The elf said quietly before disappearing with a crack.

The room he had been shown to was nice. Not quite his taste as it was quite feminine. The walls were a pale blue silk damask with matching spindly sofa's in a pale shade of crème. There was a dainty writing desk in the corner that looked inviting as if it was ready for it's mistress to come home and sit, sipping her tea as she wrote out maybe a dinner menu or a reply to an invitation.

It struck him, at that moment, that if circumstances had been different, Hermione would have been the woman gracing the room. The empty bookshelves would have been filled with some of her more pleasant, visually appealing tomes. The silver gilt mirror that hung above the fireplace would have reflected her image, possibly on a daily basis.

If things would have turned out differently then, he wondered if he would feel this way now.

"I'm sorry my father couldn't be here." Draco Malfoy said, walking into the room, touching nothing but his eyes taking in the atmosphere with a certain reverence. "Is everything alright with Hermione?" He inquired, gesturing with his hand for Ron to sit on the sofa across from him.

It didn't escape his notice that Draco flinched slightly as they both sat down.

Draco being genuinely concerned for Hermione's welfare had been a surprise to him. He had thought, above anyone, that Draco Malfoy would gloat at his wife's injuries, but he surprised them all.

On one afternoon at one of their little update sessions, Ron had plucked up the courage to ask the ferret why he cared. Lucius had stormed out of the room only minutes earlier, as was his want. After hearing of Hermione, Malfoy tended to leave the room for almost near an hour. When Lucius came back, the aroma of whiskey followed him and his clothes were quite rumples and his knuckle bleeding slightly through a monogram handkerchief.

Draco had watched the man leave and answered his question easily.

"_How could I not be concerned for her? She _was _and _still _is my father's entire life. She means everything to him. How could she not, in turn, mean everything to me?"_

Since then, Ron had made it a point to be less rude and more pleasant during their meetings.

"Is she ill?" Draco asked, his voice taking on a note of panic that ripped him from his thoughts.

"No, umm, no she isn't ill." Ron replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. He loosed his tie and slid the top button out of his collar. "Have you got some Ogden's around here?" He asked, stumbling over his words.

The elf promptly bought a bottle and two glasses. Draco poured a couple of fingers more than usual into the tumblers and Ron drank it down greedily.

"I'm going to floo call the bank. I think Father needs to be here as soon as possible." Draco said, his pale brows creasing as he looked him over. "Are you sure there isn't something wrong with you?" He asked in a condescending tone that Ron normally would have taken offense to.

He would have loved to answer the question, but going by the way his hand shook as he lifted the glass to his mouth, he knew that he couldn't trust his voice just quite yet.

Ron was suffocating and he knew that his life as of now was going to change. He was terrified, he was hurting. He was resolved to do the right thing.

Malfoy Sr. strode into the room not even three minutes later, his hair flying and the fragile doors crashing into the wall.

Ron watched Draco's wince as he watched the left door make a dent in the wall. Lucius must have noticed too as before he even greeted him, he had that snake handled wand out ready to repair the damage.

"I've got it." Draco stepped over, his wand moving in intricate swirls until the damage was repaired.

Lucius' eyes were wild as he threw his traveling robes to the floor and tugged his leather gloves off roughly.

Again, Draco seemed disturbed with Lucius' seemingly disrespect of the room. It almost seemed mad to him, but he guessed that he might be the same way in their position.

"You tell me right now what's wrong with her." Lucius demanded in that cold voice that had always slightly terrified Ron.

Taking a last sip of dutch courage, he was ready.

"She is..." his voice failed him.

Malfoy's face was panicked. His eyes seemed to bore into him, as if all the answers would be written there.

He took a deep breath as images of his life with his wife flashed before him. Her beaming face as he placed the engagement ring he had been saving up for on her finger. Her hair tumbling down her back as he happened to catch her in her slip. Her twinkling laughter as they danced to their first song as husband and wife. The last image though, was the one he couldn't get out of his mind. Her amber eyes glossed over in confusion as she looked at him.

With that image in his mind, he was ready to make his sacrifice, just as the man who sat across from him had done. He was going to right the lie that he had taken advantage of all those years ago. It was going to kill him, in fact, he felt like he was dying right now as he struggled to get the words out.

"She remembers you." He finally got out.

He expected to see joy, elation, almost any of the happy emotions cross Malfoy's face, but not one did and he knew why. Lucius Malfoy was afraid to hope.

"The healers..." Malfoy said, uncertainly.

"She hasn't seen the healer."

"Why not? I entrusted her care to you. You swore an oath that she would always have the best care. I would have paid for the best healers..." Malfoy left off, his mouth setting into a thin line. "Why has nothing been done?"

"Because," he gathered his thoughts as identical sets of arctic eyes settled on him. "Because she doesn't remember everything. Hermione confided in my sister that she was seeing a therapist. I contacted the doctor and explained the situation to her."

"Hermione is having flashbacks of you." He finally finished, even though he didn't want to.

"She is truly remembering?" Draco asked, astounded and hesitant.

"She is." Ron affirmed, wishing he hadn't noticed the deep sigh that both Malfoy's let out at the news. "She doesn't remember the _exact_ details, but her therapist seems to believe that this is just the beginning."

He searched in his pocket and pulled out the business card that the secretary had given him. He handed it over to Lucius, whose palm curled around the card as if it was his lifeline. "Her name is Claire Randall and she seems quite knowledgeable. She approaches her cases with a blend of wizarding and muggle teachings. She said that she would be available by owl if at anytime you want to reach her."

He watched Malfoy turn the card over in his hands as he stared at it. He couldn't imagine what the man was feeling. It still amazed Ron at times that he even had feelings, but he knew that if Hermione had once loved him, then Lucius must have had feelings in abundance. At least towards Hermione, that is.

"She's going to get her memories back." He said, trying to ease some of the tension that lined Malfoy's eyes.

The head of the Malfoy family sat the card down on the table and walked over to stand in front of the bright bay window. His hand caressing a silk pillow that was lain haphazardly across the window seat.

"Why would you tell me this?" Lucius asked after an eternity. "Surely this is difficult for you."

Ron swallowed harshly brought his hand up to rub at his forehead. The diamonds in his wedding band still managing to catch the light even on this dreary day in Wiltshire.

"Because it's time that I repay the favor that you gave to me." He bit out. "You once said and at the time, I didn't believe you. But, you told me that there was nothing that you wouldn't give for her happiness and you did. You were a better man than I was."

"At our wedding I was naïve. I told you that I could imagine what it was like for you to live without her." Ron admitted, the terrible pressure in his chest growing. "I understand what that is like now and I would never be able to hold her back when the time comes. I don't want her to ever feel the pain of being separated from the one that she loves. I couldn't live knowing that her life is just waiting for her and that I'm the only thing keeping her from it."

"How can you bear it?" Draco asked. "How can you stand to let her go?"

Ron started to speak up, but Lucius spoke for him, his voice deep but somehow reassuring as Ron struggled for the words to explain it. Lucius knew the answer better than him as he had lived through it.

"You endure it because you fear, that in the end, the decision will be taken out of your hands. And it will. There is no guarantee and you have no control over the outcome. It all rests with her."

With a raw throat and a headache forming between his eyes, Ron made his final trip out of the manor. The temperature had lowered and the steady falling rain had know turned into snow.

He pulled his wool coat closer to his body and tightened his scarf. As he reached the gates, he blew onto his hands, even though the warm breath didn't seem to do anything to numb the coldness that he was feeling inside.

He took one last look at the grounds and the stately home. He was sure that the next time he visited, the elegant house would once again be alive with warmth and a mistress that would fill the halls with her twinkling laughter and dancing eyes. Her once carefree smile would return and she would complete the family within those walls.

Lucius had been right, he thought as he stepped outside the gates. He would endure the pain but not because he was afraid of rejection. He would endure because he knew, without a doubt, that once Hermione regained her memories, she would want to choose Lucius. He wouldn't stand in her way. Too many sacrifices had been made already and at heart, all he wanted to see was her happiness.

With snow falling lightly around him and dusting the shoulders of his coat, he closed his eyes and finally disapparated.

* * *

Please let me know what you think... Lucius loves reviews. It makes him feel naughty, therefore he gives me more plot bunnies (as well as a massive jump in blood pressure). Goodness, no fictional character should be this hot.


	3. Chapter 3

I apologize for the lateness, but now we are all settled in, back in NY. There are two more chapters after this one to come, which I should hopefully have up by the end of next week. Now, I know this a bit unusual for me, but my muse really wants to speak with you all about this story. So, please, hear her out...

_My dear lovelies, I realized the other day while I was poking around in the mind of my author while she was sleeping, that I may have been a bit remiss. You see my darlings, I gave our dear writer only bits and pieces of the story and in her delusional state of packing and traveling, she forgot to ask about them. _

_Now, don't bring out the tomatoes yet as our poor author is still quite tired from her grueling trip across country and is at this moment ready to drop into her bed from exhaustion, although I must admit... that bed does look rather inviting. _

_You see, our dear writer has a one track mind and that track is usually centered on the man of her dreams, our divine Lucius Malfoy. She neglected to listen to the other voices in this story. Oh sure, she gave that Ronald his piece, but only because she felt bad for him. He is, after all, losing his wife, whom he does love very much. Our silly author wanted to show that he's not that bad and that he really is a good man, which we all know he truly is, despite some of his rather crude manners. _

_However, dear little typing rabbit neglected to give a voice to the one who has been clamoring for his part in the story to be told. _

_Of course this story is centered on our darlings, Lucius and Hermione and yes, Red as well... but our author forgot about Draco. _

_The poor lad was so distressed in the last chapter that I finally pinched our authors brain, rather mean if I must say, while she was taking a nap and forced her to get up and get out Draco's story. Because, after all... this is his story too, just as much as it is Lucius, Hermione and Ron's. _

_So, pull your tomatoes out after you finish reading as Lucius is not in this chapter, nor is his naked body..._

Well, she's just too bloody nosey if you ask me! Silly muse! So... here's the chapter! Please review and sorry for the poor Scottish accent.

* * *

Awakening Memories

"_Other things may change us, but we start and end with family."_

_~ Anthony Brandt_

Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy was more than likely to be found at Wood's Pub every night at six o'clock. Since his old schoolmate owned the pub, he was assured to have his usual seat at the end of the bar and a tumbler with several fingers of Ogden's waiting for him before he could even hop on the leather-covered bar seat.

What had started out as a once a week trip to unwind from work, had gradually turned into his nightly routine. A very sad nightly routine, he thought as he lossened the tight knot of his tie so that he could breath. He didn't get drunk, that wouldn't be fitting for a Malfoy, but he did tend to get a good buzz. Just enough to take off the edge and let him forget, if only for a few hours, that his whole life was in shambles.

As he nursed his drink, he took in the people around him. There were kids that he had gone to school with, all of course now grown with their own families. He could pick out some of the men that had stayed neutral during the war and were now friends of his fathers. There were even a few goblins over from Gringott's. Merlin, they looked too happy. He hated them all.

"Ever think o' getting yourself a nice girlfriend, Malfoy?" Oliver Wood's voice cut through his people spotting, reminding him that he had a nice glass in front of him that needed to be drank down and quickly.

"I don't have the time." He responded plainly, although he was sure it sounded stiffand formal. "And if I did," he tried sounding more friendly, "I wouldn't be able to find one who would put up with my sorry arse."

The truth though, was much worse than that. He would like to find a girl, his girl to be exact. Maybe get married, pop out a couple Malfoy babies, but the truth was that he couldn't. He wasn't impotent or anything, he just seemed to have a block. Draco hated being honest with himself, but at this point now, it was unavoidable. He needed his father's life to be back on track before he could even start on his own. Until that happened, he was going to drown himself in low quality booze and dream about the good old days.

It still amazed him how Granger had moved herself into their lives. It seemed so quick, but so... fated, he supposed. With his mother gone, Granger just seemed to fill that void in their lives that had been left with his mother's passing.

He didn't kid himself and he knew that the marriage between his mother and father had never been a love match. They loved _him_ unconditionally, but definitely not each other. When his mother had been fallen ill from the stress, he had been devastated, but he was also happy that she hadn't lived to see the hardships that their family had gone through. She didn't see the loss of respect, the traitorous label applied to their names, or feel the stain of a somewhat lost social world. Narcissa Malfoy harbored no great love for those beneath her, but she would have hated all the loss of life that had occurred near the end of the war.

His father had been honest with him from the start. He had told him of what had occurred at the Ministry and of the alliance that he had formed with Hermione Granger and therefore the Order of the Phoenix.

He had been incredulous when he first found out, but quickly accepted it when he noticed the change in his father. The harsh lines that had settled into his father's face since the Dark Lord had reemerged, had quickly softened, leaving the wizard more approachable. Where there had existed a formality between him and his father, it had lessened, allowing them to have a closer more equal relationship. Plus, the man laughed, really laughed. He was happy and in love.

His father, Lucius Malfoy, had been redeemed through a girl more than half his age and Draco was thrilled.

On the rare occasions that Granger was in the manor, the silent halls had rang with laughter, the cold rooms were warmed by her easy charm and the gloom that had settled over the property had been banished with her quick wit and gracious smiles. She had transformed their lives, not just his fathers, but his as well. She was their breath of fresh air in the midst of chaos. They were not the same without her.

"Ye ken, I heard a rumor earlier. The gossips say that a bonnie lass has taken a wee bit of a liking to ye." Oliver paused, sitting the glass he had been cleaning down behind the counter and leaning forward on his arms. "Whit ye make of that?"

Draco rubbed his hands over his face and singled for the former Gryffindor to refill his glass. When it was to the brim the corners of his mouth lifted into a sad smile. "She's too good for me."

"Well, that's nae much of a surprise, is it?" Wood joked, although to him it rang true.

"No, it really isn't." He said dryly.

"Still, I imagine yer fither is ready for ye tae settle down, maybe have a few bairns, make him a grandfather?"

"My father would be quite happy for that to happen, but I would prefer to see him settled before I leg shackle myself into wedded bliss."

"Aye, I heard bout that a few years back. Felt bad fer the two of them." Wood said solemnly, his sincerity sounding through even with his thick brogue. "It must hae been hard tae lose her so soon after the daith of yer mother."

Not many people knew of the relationship that had existed between Lucius and Hermione, only the families and those closest to the Order. Wood had helped throughout the war and was also a personal friend of Hermione's, so of course, he knew all about it. Draco guessed that maybe that was the main reason he liked to frequent the pub so much. Wood knew what was going on and was polite enough to understand and not nag for details.

His typical response would have been nonchalant, but he was really at his breaking point. Sure, they had been delivered the good new of Granger's possible recovery from Weasel, but he knew that it was foolish to hope. Chances were that she could snub them completely just from the gossip. It's not like Granger actually remembered them.

"Oh sod it. My father is a bleeding wreck." He admitted, quite loudly too from the extra bit of alcohol now swimming in his system. "For years, he's been this way. Sure, to the rest of the world he's the same Lucius Malfoy, but privately... I don't know... I think the man's going insane. I think I'm going with him."

If Wood was shocked, he had the decency not to show it. Draco appreciated it more than he could say.

"The entire manor is in a state of slumber. The house, our lives, everything is just waiting for her to come back. It's driving me into madness. I want her to remember, not just for my father, but for myself as well." He finished, his cheeks glowing a bright pink. "Call me selfish, but I'm tired of the monotony."

"Mibbe it's time for ye tae move on, time for all of ye tae put the past behind ye and move forward."

"I think that we were to that point. Father still hoped, but he was gradually starting to live his life. I mean, he wasn't plotting the destruction of our world, but he was starting to get out every so often."

"Were, you said?"

Draco nodded.

"Weasel," He sneered the infamous Malfoy sneer that had been handed down through generations of good breeding. It didn't last. On look at Oliver and he quickly apologized, remembering that Wood was also a friend of red's. "Weasley came to the manor the other day. Hermione has started to remember?"

"Thank Merlin for that." Oliver exclaimed and held out his hand to pump Draco's a few times in congratulations.

"Yes, well, I'm trying to not get my hopes up. Weasley said that she was remembering, but she can't retain the exact details. So, to me that basically means we are getting nowhere."

"Still, that's verra guid 's better news than ye've had in a while."

"It is. I just hope that it works out. I'm more than ready to move on with life. I'm tired of watching it go on around me and not feeling like I can join in." He admitted, realizing for the first time this evening that he had said much more than he intended to share.

"Look Draco, times hae no been easy for everyone. People are still coping with their losses and trying to put their lives back together. It's a slow process and those others that ye see either jumped in tae fast or are merely playing at happiness. It takes time and I'm sure that it's about to happen for ye."

"Maybe you're right, Wood."

"It's Scottish wisdom. Breed deep into ma wee bones."

Draco raised his glass in mock salute.

"Now, about that bonnie lass..." Wood signaled with his finger to a table in the corner of the bar.

His eyes followed the line, albeit unsteadily, until they found what he had been subconsciously looking for.

"What should I say to her?"

"Semple. Tell her yer sorry for ignoring her and ask the lass if ye can walk her hame."

Oliver picked up his glass and emptied out the rest of the Ogden's that he hadn't gotten through yet. He knew that he wouldn't be coming back for a while.

"You're alright Wood." He said before turning away.

He walked up to her table and couldn't keep the smile off of his face. She was just too lovely for words.

"You know, I had about given up on you." Her voice sounding like tinkling bells on a warm summer night.

"I'm not ready for you to give up on me." Draco replied, his old self confidence bolstering through. "Besides, you can't finish what hasn't started."

"Well," she pushed her blond curls behind her ears, away from her neck. She had such a lovely neck, he thought, long and slender, in perfect proportion to the rest of her body. "I suppose I've waited this long..." She trailed off, but kicked the seat across from her out, a invitation for him to sit.

He did.

"I'm sorry I've been an arse." He said bluntly. In his mind he had conjured a lengthy speech about forgiveness and all that tripe.

"Yes, you have." She said with a cool voice, obviously wanting him to go further.

He was willing to oblige.

"I've been self absorbed, too busy and conceited in thinking that I was the only one who had problems. I have made everything about me and neglected you in the process, even though you were trying your best to get to know the sodding wanker that I've become."

"You forgot a few things." She smiled and placed her small hand over his.

"No, I think I covered it all; sodding wanker, stupid git, manky barmpot, dozy cock-up, a wally prat. I think I've got it all." He mumbled, mentally checking off his list of insults.

He watched as Luna rose up from her chair, her chic blue robes making her look even more beautiful than she already was, and came over to stand in front of him. He grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her into his lap. Her arms wrapping around his neck made the moment even better.

"You also forgot; selfless, loving, courageous and mine."

"Your's?" He asked, hoping that his ears and body were not deceiving him.

"Mine." She repeated. "I've loved you for years Draco and you can't deny that you feel the same way."

He wouldn't deny it, even though he should. He had ignored her shamefully while trying to help his father cope. "I don't deny it. I've loved you ever since you stood next to me at the final battle and helped me save Granger from that curse. She could have lost a lot more than her memories. Your quick thinking and medical experience saved us all."

"I love you Draco." Luna placed a small kiss on his cheek and stood up, holding out her hand for him.

He didn't even think of turning her down. She was offering him so much more than her hand. She was offering him the future.

He slid his palm into hers.

He held out her coat for her and then shrugged into his own wool coat.

"I heard from a friend that the best way to end a night is to walk a lady home." He suggested, placing his hand at her lower back.

"It's even better if you take said lady to the home you intend to reside in for the rest of your lives."

"Are you propositioning me?" Draco asked, feigning shock.

"Are you accepting?"

"Without a doubt." He readily agreed.

Then she winked at him and headed towards the door.

It took him a moment to catch on, he obviously did not attribute it to the color of his hair, only his shock.

With his hand on the door, he turned to look back at Wood. His classmate and now friend slowly tipped his head to the side, a silent acknowledgment of Draco's thanks.

Wood had been right, he could only hope for the best. He couldn't control what was going to happen in his father's life. He couldn't wave his wand and turn back time and save Granger from losing her memories. He also couldn't change the fact that his father had willingly given her up.

What he could do in the meantime was do the things that Granger had taught him.

He could live for the moment because you never knew when that moment will come again. He would love, and love deeply, because that is what they had fought for, after all. He could prepare a home and bring joy into it as Granger had done with them.

He could do it and when she finally got her memories back and was installed in the manor that would only come truly alive when she returned... then he would finally thank her... for everything.


	4. Chapter 4

Here we go... the end. Now don't get angry... I said in the begining that this wasn't going to be a long story. Thank-you so much to everyone who read the story and loved it as much as I do. I hope you like the ending, I thought it fit very well, with not only keeping in mind this story, but the prequel Lost to Memory, as well. So enjoy and thank you all again. Crystal

Awakening Memories

_Right before I drown, she resuscitates me..._

Chapter 4

"Thank-you for taking the time out of your schedule to meet with me Healer Randall." Lucius said formally before taking a seat on the sumptuous leather sofa.

"I was pleased to hear from you Mr. Malfoy." The healers responded as she took her seat across from him and pulled out a thick folder. "Please, let me also tell you how sorry I am for all the emotional turmoil you must be going through. From what I've seen and gathered, this situation is so heartbreaking."

"It has been difficult, but I have finally been given a taste of hope where none existed before." He smiled which was something he hadn't done for quite some time.

Since Weasley had visited a few days earlier, he had quickly found himself walking with an extra spring in his step and a lighter feeling in his chest. To be honest, he felt younger than he had in years. His life had just seemed to disappear on the day Hermione had married Ronald Weasley. Every moment had increased tenfold since then.

He lived his life in constant fear that her memory would haunt him forever. With every visit that Weasley made, he sat there in terror knowing that the man could possibly tell him that the woman he loved was pregnant or that he wouldn't be continuing his visits. It killed him, the way his thoughts tore him apart.

It wasn't only that, it was the heartbreaking loneliness and the regret that he harbored inside. He, of course, believed that perhaps he deserved it. He knew, that despite his reformation, the core of what and who had been could never be as good as she was.

His thoughts plagued him constantly and he had wondered and wished on several occasions if he was right. Did he make the right decisions in letting her go? Would he do it again, knowing now what he didn't know then? His mind was always on her, always living with her voice in his head, her love running through his veins.

"You have every right to hope, Mr. Malfoy." Healer Randall smiled brightly, leaning forward and placing her hand on his sleeve but then sent him a questioning look. "You don't completely trust what you are hearing, do you?"

"You must understand," Lucius started, his voice faltering slightly as it always did when he spoke of her. "I've lived without her for so long, but in the same moment, it's as if she has been with me all along. I dare not allow myself to linger too long on the possibility of a future."

He watched as she pulled out a thick folder and sat it on the table.

"I have some research I need to do..." She began, standing up from her chair. "Perhaps you would like some time alone to look over her file. We usually don't allow these kinds of things, privacy and all, but I truly feel that the only way to give this situation closure is for you to read about it from a clinical point of view."

"I would greatly appreciate that." He thanked her, his long manicured hands already reaching for the folder.

"I understand that you like facts, Mr. Malfoy." She nodded with approval. "That is something that I can understand. So much of therapy is hypothesis and uncertainty, but we do occasionally get concrete evidence of what's going on."

"Is there much mention of her marriage?" He asked, sounding like a jealous fool, but at the moment, her current marriage was not something that he wanted to know the intimate details of.

Claire Randall smiled compassionately. "No, there isn't. Our sessions pretty much directly focused on the memories that were always out of her grasp." She pointed to the folder again. "In the file, you will find my notes from her sessions as well as the journal that she kept while seeing me. I think that you will find that you were never far in her thoughts."

Lucius stood, it was the gentlemanly thing to do when a lady left the room.

"Thank-you Healer Randall... for everything."

"Think nothing of it. I'm just pleased that we were able to get somewhere and hopefully all of this will end well for all you. To be honest, it's not very often that us healers can get to the bottom of things in this field, so when the results are as satisfactory as they have been in this case... well, I feel quite pleased that I was able to help in any way."

He bowed slightly as she shut the door behind her.

He reached out for the folder after sitting down, but found that his hand was shaking as it reached for the folder. Had she been thinking of him? Her face swam before his eyes and he wondered if his own had crossed her mind as often as it had him the past few years.

He picked the folder up and read.

_His hands skimmed over my shoulder and down my arm as I leaned against him. I vaguely remember dark woods and pale carpets. Over the fireplace there is a photograph, a muggle photo, but I can't exactly make it out. I think I was half asleep in the memory. _

_His chest is bare as I lean against it. I'm relaxed as I rest against his skin. I'm tired, so very tired. It goes deep into my bones. But him, his scent, his touch, his presence... just being with him makes the world disappear. _

_I can feel his fingers threading through my curls, separating them carefully. My left hand is resting at the corner of his neck. He's so warm, so full of life._

Lucius sat aside another copied page from her journal and rubbed his neck at the base of his skull. He was tired, drained really. He remembered the night that she described. It was one of the worst of his life. It was the night that he not only almost lost Draco. In that dark street, he realized that he had to have her in his life to make him complete. He had decided on that night, during that battle that his life would cease to be his own. His heart, and therefore his life, would be her's.

_It wasn't very often that she was able to make it to the manor. The war had escalated to a fiery violence and her presence, as well as his, was required on the battlefields. _

_When he felt her calling him through his ancestral ring that she now wore, he had been surprised. He had just gotten back from a mission with Severus and Draco for the Dark Lord. There had been a minor skirmish in Diagon Alley as they had come up against the Order. _

_The three of them had been careful with their spells, never directly harming a member of the Order as they were all on the same side. A stray spell, however, from Dolohov had sent the facade of Flourish and Blotts to come falling down into the street, capturing Draco underneath. _

_He heard Hermione's cry of anguish as she noticed what had happened. She loved Draco like family now. They had put their past behind them, although on occasions they did slip up. Her shattering cry captured Dolohov's attention once more. The killing curse would have hit her if she hadn't tripped on her way over to the fallen building. _

_Signaling to the other Death Eater's that it was time to go, they disappeared as Lucius levitated the wreckage off of his son. She rushed over to him and used her own wand to heal not only his cuts but Draco's as well. _

"_Get him out of here." She cried, while helping him stand with his son in his arms. "Tonight was too close. Go back to the Manor where I know you will both be safe."_

_He watched as hot tears streaked down her cheeks. Lucius thanked the God's again for giving him this woman. _

"_As soon as I finish with the order tonight, I'm coming home. I need you, Lucius."_

Lucius sat there, he didn't know for how long, the folder opened in his lap with her glimpses of their short life together scattered around him. He couldn't take it anymore.

He needed her. Couldn't live without her any longer.

He quickly cleaned up the mess and shrank the papers into his robes. He politely thanked the healer on his way out, but didn't wait for a reply.

His body and mind were possessed as he ran the cobblestone lengths of Diagon Alley. He ignored the startled looks from the people he passed. His Italian leather shoes were slick on the damp pavement as he passed the various shops that lined the street. His breath was coming hard as the pressure in his chest intensified, his need to touch her and be near her, so great. He caught sight of his image in one of the windows, his robes were swinging around his legs, his hair flying out behind him.

He stopped.

The crowd behind him faded away and the image that was always with him became real, all of her features were there in the glass. It was the first time his mind had conjured her up in such stunning clarity. Then he realized as his heart clenched painfully.

She was there.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heavy, erratic breathing. His mind had played this trick on him too many times. Everyday since she had been gone, it wasn't unusual to see an image of her sitting in the library, feel her hand touch his arm across the dinner table.

So he turned slowly, still not opening his eyes, afraid that the vision before him would disappear as it had so many times. He prayed, begged every god that he could think of, that when he opened his eyes, she would still be there.

He counted the seconds until his silver eyes finally opened and looked into her soulful amber eyes.

He simply looked at her. He searched her face, her hair, wanting to see through her to her heart. He could see that her body was visibly shaking as she took him in as well. So many years had passed, he thought, as he stood there in the street with her only a few feet away.

He stretched out his hand as his feet took an unsteady step towards her, a heavy rain began to fall from the sky. He wanted her to move forward, to have the strength to take those few extra steps that he just couldn't find the courage to make.

His heart pounded an excrutiating rhythm as she finally moved, her delicate hand tracing the thread that was now glowing on her skin, the piece of himself that he had left so long ago. The golden path so vibrant and visible on her satin skin. She looked up at him as heavy tears made their way down her graceful cheeks. She took the remaining steps separating them.

He sank to the ground.

He felt her hands threading through his hair as he buried his face into her stomach and wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent of lemon and vanilla that was uniquely her, the scent that he had been starving for. If he had lived without her for fifty more years, he knew that he would love her just as much. His love for her was the reason he breathed.

Her fingers slowly swept along his cheeks, brushing off the drops of rain that could have very well been tears. He felt her touch lifting his face up to see hers. Lucius watched in slow detail as she slowly fell to the ground next to him. And then it happened.

Her arms wrapped around him as wracking sobs shuddered through her body. He was home, she was home. They were together. He trailed his hands along her back, moving in slow, comforting circles as he nuzzled his face into her chocolate curls, wishing that he could melt into her so they could never be parted again.

"I don't know who you are." She whispered quietly into his ear, her breath sweat and fragrant against his skin. Hermione brought her face back around to his, her hands on each side of his face, her thumbs exploring the stubble on his cheek. "I don't know who you are, but I want to. I need to. I don't remember everything and I can't promise that I ever will, but I love you. I've loved you for years and I can't be without you. You're a part of me, a piece of my soul that I can't go on without."

Her last words were a trembling cry as his hands wound into her hair and pulled her lips to his. He would take whatever she was offering. This, her being here, touching him... it was enough. If he never saw her again, this would suffice in seeing him through for the rest of his life because she was all he needed.

He pulled back from her slowly and pushed her rain soaked curls off of her face. Lucius searched her eyes for confusion, for signs that she didn't know him. Instead, their depths held clarity and understanding. She didn't need her memories to remember him, he remembered enough for the both of them.

Time seemed to stand still for him as he held her in his arms, simply content to look into her eyes as the rain fell heavily around them. Their clothes were soaked through and a crowd had gathered around them, but he didn't care. To him, this was the culmination of his life. It didn't matter what had happened in their past and the future was still a mystery. He understood that there were no guarantees in this life and he was willing to accept that there was a possibility that this could be it. This was enough.

He pressed his lips to hers once again, placing all the passion and love he could muster into it. He was alive, awakened. This was his happy ending and whatever it turned out to be, he would take it. As he pulled away from her, he looked down at her. Her eyes were shining with tears lining her lashes.

He smiled.

_Finis_


End file.
